


In which Jim Kirk enters a fake marriage. For feminism.

by Stormyflower



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/F, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealous Spock, Pining, Pining Kirk, Pining Spock, Sharing a Bed, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormyflower/pseuds/Stormyflower
Summary: What it says in the title. There is a fake marriage, or actually two fake marriages, a jealous Spock, an exasperated Bones and an oblivious James T. Kirk (Who, yes, has a boy's name. Move on, it's the twenty third century.). It's all for the sake of feminism. The ladies of the Enterprise get down to business.





	In which Jim Kirk enters a fake marriage. For feminism.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AliceCorsairs](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AliceCorsairs).



> This is a Secret Santa gift for the marvellous @AliceCorsairs. Star Trek and it's characters do not belong to me and neither does that epic tumblr post about the Enterprise's training suits, from which I have stolen shamelessly and which I shall link to once I've found it. My tumblr is @mer-yan.tumblr.com

There was, Spock thought to herself, definitely some inherent flaw in the design of the newly arrived next issue Starfleet uniforms. Captain Kirk, of course, had been delighted once Spock had shown her the sketches, but there was no way that the ever shortening skirts and tightly fitting fabric were conducive to the productivity of the bridge crew. And then there were the training suits.  
“But it's an abbreviation, Spock, you like those”, the Captain had called over from their shared bathroom, to which she had retreated to put on the new garments immediately. Spock had heaved a mental sigh and refrained from commenting, while studiously avoiding the sight of the Captain in her new training suit, the word “ENTER” splayed in capital letters over the breast area of the zip jacket. Now, of course, Spock herself was Vulcan and therefore immune to Captains in tight fitting body suits with inviting messages printed onto alluring organs, but the same could not be said of ninety-three percent of the male, seventy-two percent of the female and eighty-seven point three percent of the non-binary or sexless crew members of the Enterprise, as extensive studies had shown. Not to mention alien dignitaries and visiting Terran officials. It was thereby entirely reasonable, thought Spock, to oppose the new training uniforms as a hazard to productivity. She would have to file an official complaint.  
On the other hand, the fault might not lie with the uniforms after all, she mused, while surveying the woman across the chess board in front of her, clad in civilian gear consisting of an unshapely unisex T-shirt in a truly horrendous hue of pink and old, worn out jeans. The fault might, in fact, lie with the extraordinary shade of blue of the Captains eyes. Or maybe her soft looking hair, cut in a short pixie cut, with one curl escaping down her forehead and softly touching her skin one point three nine centimeters above her left eyebrow…  
“...the moralistic implications of involving ourselves in their process of emancipation, though, right? Right? Spock? Spock, hey, Spock, what's going on in that Vulcan head of yours?”  
Spock shook herself out of her stupor. “I am sorry, Captain. I was merely…” Her voice was curiously hoarse. She cleared her throat. “...merely contemplating possible improvements to the ship's overall productivity. Forgive me. Would you repeat your last statement?”  
“Nothing to apologise for, Spock. We all get lost in thought sometimes.” The Captain smiled. Spock cleared her throat once again.  
“I assure you, Captain, I did not get ‘lost in thought’, my mind is very well ordered and I certainly am aware of the structure and organisation…”  
“Spock. Expression.” Jim laid a hand on Spock's upper arm. Spock recognised it as a common human calming gesture. It did not seem very calming to her. “Anyways, as I was just saying, Marno’s society sucks. Did you read the mission brief? Okay, okay, don't look so offended, of course you did. Anyway, I want to punch their worldview in the face. Repeatedly. With spiked knuckles.”  
“While the cultures of alien planets may often seem strange and even offensive to the human mind, we must keep in mind that tolerance towards all cultures and their respective values is our highest obligation as Starfleet officers. We come not as missionaries of terran or federation ideals but as neutral diplomats”, Spock recited, but even she could tell that it lacked conviction.  
“Yeah, you just tell yourself that. Whatever the Starfleet guidelines say, everyone knows that we're trying to spread our values like particularly moralistic germs. Or what else would you call trying to pacify cultures with an inherent desire for war? But nevermind all that technical stuff, “matrimony is the only way for a woman to achieve the status of a citizen and worthy member of intellectual society, we believe that only the guidance of a husband can form the female mind to give her intelligence, an inherently male virtue?””  
“I can admit that the views of the people on MN-237-Y are not entirely founded on reason…”  
“Not entirely founded on reason? This is batshit crazy! “Only after a female has wed is her mind properly tamed and her hormones checked by the strong hand of her husband. Then, and only then, is she ready to come in contact with other men without presenting a danger to them"? How am I supposed to talk to these people?”  
“...yes, this might in fact present some difficulties. The most advantageous course of action would probably be to send a diplomatic envoy of male officers to represent us.”  
“Hell no! I’m not going to let them bully us into their crappy gender roles. I’m going down there and I’ll have a proper talk with the girls there while I’m at it.”  
“Captain, the first directive clearly states…”  
“Fuck the first directive! They have a law that literally makes it illegal for woman to utter political opinions before they're married and they have to marry the first man their fathers choose! That is rape, whatever you say. Fucking legalised rape. If they want to join the federation they better get their shit together. Don't they have to sign the Universal Declaration of Humanoid Rights before they can join the federation anyways?”  
“You have read the mission brief, Captain. You know we are at the very beginning of negotiations with MN-237-Y. They have very rich dilithium mines. This could be a great asset for the federation. Them joining the federation is just a distant possibility at the moment - one which we are here to further.”  
“Yeah, I know. We need resources, so we’re selling out with provisional membership - who cares about humanoid rights if there’s money involved, right? It’s bullshit, Spock, and you know it. We should just leave them alone to stew in there prejudiced, sexist juices. Who cares if we offend them, fuck them.”  
The Captain looked distressed, in the course of her rant she had messed up her constantly disarrayed hair even more. Her blue eyes were pinched, almost hidden behind righteously furrowed brows. Spock raised one eyebrow. Jim slumped.  
“Spooock", she whined, “can you honestly tell me you don’t have the urge to punch their dignitaries in the face? Or at least Vulcan-stare them into submission?”  
Spock looked away from her beseeching eyes.  
“I will admit that the notion of making deals with them isn’t exactly pleasant to me" - “HAH!”, cried Jim in triumph - “However", Spock continued, slightly more forcefully, “I also know what even a slight change in MN-237-Y’s laws could mean for their entire female population. A deal with the federation would push them in that direction. In addition I can only guess what the presence and public appearance of a woman like yourself might do for young women on MN-237-Y. You are successful, independent and certainly not subject to any man’s orders and it is clearly visible wherever you go. Your presence on their planet alone could change things to the better.”  
If Spock’s eyes didn’t deceive her - and they didn’t - there was a blush rising on the Captain’s cheeks. She studied the effects the color had on her complexion with some fascination, until Jim buried her head in her arms and hid her face, groaning.  
“You know I can’t say no if you flatter me, Spock", came the muffled complaint. “Okay, okay, we won’t be offensive. But I won’t just let the men of the crew handle this, I want to be there myself.”  
“Of course, Captain.”  
“But they won't let me talk to their political leaders, let alone lead the negotiations, as an unmarried female…” Jim looked up sharply. “So what do we do?”

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Alice Corsairs,  
> Happy Holidays!  
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Your wishlist read like a copy of my own and I'm thrilled to finally have gotten to write a bit of femslash - there is far too little in the world. This was supposed to be a one shot but as always got out of hand, so there are seven chapters now, which I'll try to upload until January sixth, though I can't promise anything, as I am currently travelling and my internet connection is very moody.  
> I really hope you like this and it isn't too tropey for you (I couldn't resist),  
> Your Secret Santa,  
> Mer-Yan  
> P.S: I tumblr-stalked you and your fem!spock cosplay is very... inspiring ;)


End file.
